Eternal Damnation
by CatherineWinner
Summary: Peter is gone from the earthly world, but once in Aslan's land he begs to be able to watch over Susan. Only to late does Peter realize the affects his ghost has on his sister. Peter and Susan...don't like, don't read.


**This fic kinda came outta no where for me, so any thoughts about this fic would be awesome. I had a long day and just sat down to write and this is what came out. Love and Merry Christmas to all!**

After the trash crash and the splitting pain finished ravishing his body, Peter found himself in Aslan's land. Lucy and Edmond were overjoyed; Aslan welcomed them with open arms and an open heart. Yet after his younger siblings had gone to reconnect with friends long past, Aslan approached the Magnificent King with a sober face.

"I know your wish young King, but it is something that will not bring you any joy or peace."

Peter shook his head, "I don't care Aslan, she's all alone. I need to watch her; I need to be there for her…whatever way I can."

The great lions eyes seemed to pierce through his soul and Peter knew Aslan could see the extent of his grief.

"I shall grant you this wish, King of Narnia, but with a warning. It shall bring you only pain and terror. You will regret this moment and this request you have placed at my feet."Aslan said sadly, "But due to my love for you I shall grant it."

Peter, once a great king, now a lost boy seeking an old love.

When he saw her for the first time since the crash, he knew she could not see him. He was a ghost, doomed to only watch, doomed to give love to a lost girl.

She was laying on her bed, news of the crash had obviously reached her, makeup smeared her face as tear streamed down. Gasping sobs shook her body and Peter realized how painful the urge to comfort his sister suddenly was.

"God Su," He muttered, eyes swelling his tears that would never fall.

He watched as he twisted and turned throughout the night, moaning his name one second and condemning Aslan in another.

Peter stood like a shadow throughout the night, watching his sister, wishing to do nothing more than to hold her in his arms and comfort her like years past.

But when the sun broke that painful night, and his beautiful gentle sister rose for the day, Peter knew she could feel him.

Maybe it was the way she moaned his name while sleep still consumed a part of her mind, or maybe it was the way she glanced behind her in the mirror as she applied her morning makeup. Which ever way it truly was, Peter was sure his sister could feel him, and when she woke a morning two weeks later and whispered his name, he knew she felt his for sure.

"Peter?" it was more of a statement rather than question, yet the ghost of her brother answered.

"Yes my love," he whispered, because he did love her, more than any brother should ever love his sister, more than any great lovers before them.

"You are dead. You are gone, yet I feel you." She whispered, talking to the mirror as she applied a thin layer of bright red lipstick.

"I'm not gone, love. I'm here with you, I'll always be with you." He replied to deaf ears.

Susan continued, unaware of the response. "I'm going to marry today. You don't know him, I hid him from you. I knew you would see my dislike of him, I knew you would see my longing for you." The lipstick was set down and the mascara picked up, "and when I cry at night he will hold me, and I'll pretend it is you. When he makes love to me and I bare his children, I'll pretend it you and that his children are yours."

And Peter cried, and felt his heart being tore from his body. And the great Magnificent king wished for the first time that Aslan had never granted him this torment. But it was a torment he was doomed to endure.

Endure it he did, for years to come. He witnessed the married of his sister to a man who she did not love, he witnessed the birth of their first child, the couple's first fight and their slow crumble of a marriage.

And when the 10 anniversary of the crash that tore him from his sister came, Peter felt a change when his sister woke. As it had been for the past 10 years, Peter stood by her bed and greeted her as she woke.

But instead of pulling herself from the comfort of the sheets and embracing the day, his little sister, his true love turned her head and stared at him. "I know you are with me, I know you've always been with me. But I can only sense you …and that is not enough, Peter, my love, I need to feel you—or feel nothing at all."

And without taking another breath Peter watched in horror as his sister pulled from the dresser a small hand gun, placed it to the side of her head and pulled.

His scream echoed through his ears hours after the gunshot faded.

He went to Aslan, rage and grief consuming every ounce of his being. Hot tears poured down his face and he looked at the great lion, "When will I see her again."

Aslan's eyes filled with grief. "You do not understand King of Narnia, you're choice forced her choice."

"I… I don't understand," Peter whispered in a harsh, strained voice.

"I warned you of the consequences, I warned you that you would regret this."Aslan started. "She could feel you, the connection you shared was greater than I realized young king, and she felt you. She could not see or hear you but she could sense you were with her. It drove her mad."

Peter opened his mouth, but only a gasping sob escaped.

"She will never enter my lands, Peter son of Adam, she has taken her own life, and that is a sin I cannot forgive."

Peter wanted to rage at the lion, demand his sister's entrance into this paradise, he wanted to pull a sword and slay the great Aslan himself. But when Aslan turned and slowly made his way from the grief stricken boy, Peter realized the Aslan, the great lion of Narnia was not the one to blame for his sister's damnation. Indeed he was the one who had driven her mad, in fact he was the one who had spent 10 years haunting her every moment, reminding her of a life and a sin she could never escape.

And in that moment of realization, Peter the Magnificent King of Narnia, wanted eternal damnation.


End file.
